Flash Burned

by Calista Fox

  I was out of the Jeep and racing around to the front door before Kyle had even slipped from his seat.

  Punching in the code, I barreled through the double doors and ran down the hallway to Dane’s office. Kyle rushed in behind me as I yanked drawers open and tore through file folders. It was a needle in the haystack mission. I had no idea what the hell I was searching for, but somehow—somehow—I knew I’d figure it out when I found it.

  “Ari, what the fuck?” Kyle asked in a tight tone. “Are you totally losing it?”

  “Maybe. Possibly. Likely.” I even sounded a bit hysterical. My pulse echoed in my ears and my heart beat way too fast. Still, I rifled through folders and paperwork, tossing everything that didn’t strike me as pertinent onto the hardwood floor. Kyle started scooping it all up as I ransacked the first, then the second credenza.

  Halfway through, I whipped out a thick black leather portfolio and slammed it onto the blotter on Dane’s desk. I flipped it open and shuffled through contracts and amendments, forms, legal documents I really couldn’t make heads or tails of, though that was irrelevant. I suddenly knew what I wanted to find.

  Toward the back of the folio was another contract, the word DRAFT stamped across the front in bloodred. For good measure, each page held a background watermark declaring the same thing.

  A quarter of the way in, I eyed the list of names, neatly centered and all in caps.

  I ripped the sheet from the folio and pushed the leather folder aside, focusing solely on that one page. My heart rate doubled. I hadn’t thought it possible. Felt a tinge of fear, in fact, at how rapidly it thundered in my chest. Not exactly healthy, but I couldn’t slow the erratic beats.

  Kyle dropped into a chair across from me. “What’s up?”

  I reached for one of Dane’s favorite Montblanc fountain pens and circled four names: Mr. Dane Bax, Sultan Qadir Hakim, Mr. Ethan Evans, Mr. Nikolai Vasil.

  I drew a line through the Honorable Bryn Hilliard’s name. And stifled the laugh at the irony of his title.

  I scanned further down the list. Put a thick slash through Dr. Lennox Avril’s name as well.

  Lifting my gaze, I stared at Kyle, hope racing through me.

  One thought burned in my mind.

  One very distinct and now-plausible reality resonated deep within me.

  I couldn’t fight the grin as I simply said, “He’s alive.”

  chapter 11

  Kyle stared back. “He who?”

  Spreading my arms wide, I told him, “Dane, of course.” Emotion and excitement flooded my veins.

  “Oh, fuck.” Kyle got to his feet, started to pace. “Okay. I should have seen this coming. I am such an idiot,” he rambled. I watched with a raised brow. “I probably should have warned my aunt, so she could keep an eye out for this. Get you professional help. Like from a mental health thera—”

  “I have professional help.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “I see a counselor twice a week. She comes to the retreat. We talk about death—not so much Dane’s, just in general. How to accept it, things like that. Mostly we talk about the baby. How to raise it on my own, what to expect.”

  He drew up short. “You’re not on your own.”

  “Come on, Kyle. You’ve been great. No doubt. But you have a life, too. You’ve all but abandoned it to be with me.”

  “No, I haven’t,” he insisted. “I have a job. It just happens to be at the retreat where you’re living.”

  “You’ve been so helpful,” I reiterated. “Serious, life-saving helpful. But … I don’t like to talk much about the baby with you because I know it pisses you off that I’m pregnant.”

  He slumped back into the chair, disgruntled. “Couldn’t you have waited? I mean, you got engaged one night, married two nights later, and then a month goes by and we find out you’re having a baby? Jesus Christ, Ari. Take a few breaths in between.”

  “It was an accident, like your sister, Shell.” I smirked. “Water under the bridge, anyway. Well, except that … I’m totally right about Dane.” I shoved the paper Kyle’s way. “The names I circled? Good guys. The ones with the lines through them? Bad guys. Corrupt members of a secret society Dane belonged to.”

  His jaw fell slack. “A what?”

  I groaned. This was about to get complicated for him. “A political-economic society that tracks, trends, and analyzes markets and financial shit I can’t even begin to understand. Suffice it to say, the goal was to effect positive change by influencing leaders and others with power. But five of the nine members, instead, used the information for personal gain. These guys,” I said as I waved the sheet in my hand.

  There was a distinct edge to my voice and fury no doubt reflected in my eyes, riveting Kyle.

  I told him, “Dane just brought down the first two—”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Kyle leapt to his feet again. “First of all, Miss Conspiracy Theorist, how the fuck is there some sort of secret society?”

  “An Illuminati faction, to be exact.”

  “Like in Tomb Raider?”

  I laughed. I’d said something similar, with the same amount of disbelief, when Dane had told me about his dual life.

  “Kinda sorta, but not really. Anyway, it’s been around for generations. Dane is the only one recruited who wasn’t born of a founding member, from my understanding.”

  “And why is this list important now?”

  With an agitated sigh, because I’d expected him to keep up, I said, “They’re the original investors in 10,000 Lux. Long before Dane realized they’d used the think-tank intellectual property of the society to line their own coffers, while others suffered the economic downfall. Dane, Ethan, and those I’ve circled did everything they could to put a stop to it. But they weren’t wholly successful, so they’ve tried to extricate themselves.”

  Kyle shook his head once more, this time quite sharply. “Of course he’d be part of a secret society. Was there anything normal about the guy?”

  “Not that I’m aware of,” I conceded.

  “Jesus.”

  Rushing on, I said, “Remember that, after I’d been kidnapped, I told you Dane had cut out the corrupt members from the Lux before construction was underway? That’s what all the trouble was about. The sabotage, the explosion, everything. They’re responsible.”

  “Goddamn, Ari. You know, your life would have been much less disastrous—and a hell of a lot safer—if you had just stuck with me the night of Sean and Meg’s wedding. But no, you had to get wrapped up with Dark and Dangerous.” Kyle’s tone was harsh, his voice thick with anger. Even his sky-blue eyes burned with rage.

  This was a side of him I’d slowly seen emerging when it came to all the things he disapproved of in my life. And now it radiated from him.

  Trying to diffuse his anger, I said, “Now’s hardly the time for a lecture, Kyle.”

  “Oh, I beg to differ!” he erupted. “’Cause I’m thinking I’ve given you way too much of the kid-glove treatment, when what you clearly need is a healthy dose of reality. For fuck’s sake, Ari! People could have died!”

  I jumped to my feet and slammed my palms against the desktop. “People did die, Kyle! At least—” The angst drained quickly. I plopped back into my chair. “That’s what we were led to believe.”

  “Oh, Christ.” He rolled his eyes and paced again, hands on his waist.

  “Just listen, okay?” I was breathy once more, my chest heaving. “After the kidnapping, Dane promised me he’d find a legitimate way to bring these guys down. He was putting the squeeze on them, one way or the other. I have no idea what his plan was. But he obviously pushed them over the edge, because they planted a bomb inside the Lux. A bomb!”

  “That killed your husband,” Kyle said acridly.

  I glared at him.

  He added, “I’m not trying to be cruel, Ari. I’m trying to get you to see the very cut-and-dried facts.”

  “There aren’t any,” I told him. “There’s nothing cut-and-dried about this Illuminati
bloc, Dane’s involvement, or the shady members. Nothing about this scenario is black and white, Kyle. It’s all gray area. Smoke and mirrors. Incredibly powerful people who have the resources to do whatever they please for their own personal gain. Except…”

  I inhaled deeply, slowing myself down because I was jabbering a mile a minute. “Dane knew things. Enough to piece together evidence to prove these guys are corrupt—enough to warrant indictments. And even though a murder charge won’t stick, because he’s alive and Amano might be as well, they could still be charged with attempted murder, I’m sure. After all, there were about forty people inside that building they blew up. That has to equate to some serious prison time, in addition to all the other charges. Fucking with the IRS … you’re just asking for a lengthy sentence there.”

  Kyle paced some more. Swore under his breath. Then he faced me and demanded, “Are these … shady members … so powerful they thought they could get away with bombing a hotel? That it wouldn’t be traced back to them? Were they banking on Dane surrendering, letting them win rather than evening the score?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t know how these people operate—other than on a level that defies comprehension. They have billions of dollars to throw at something like this, a network of powerful resources. If Dane, Ethan, and the others opted to not come forward, the bad guys would get off scot-free, because no way would the police be able to peg the culprits. Likely not even the FBI. They don’t know Dane’s connection to Hilliard and his group. What lead would they have to work with, aside from trying to pinpoint who placed explosives in the lobby of 10,000 Lux?”

  Though I suddenly had a very good idea of who that might be—the one person who’d had access to security systems, facilities, IT, and the grounds, because he’d been a self-proclaimed jack-of-all-trades. And a weasel in disguise.

  Wayne Horton.

  The son of a bitch who’d helped to set me up when Vale had kidnapped and roughed me up.

  My blood boiled. I took several deep breaths, trying to steady myself.

  Gripping the back of the chair, Kyle said, “What makes you so sure Dane is alive and he’s the one feeding the Feds or whoever information for indictments?”

  “Because he told me he’d nail them legally.”

  Kyle’s brow jerked up. “As opposed to…?”

  “Beating the living shit of each of them with his bare hands.”

  As much as it had horrified me that Dane had attacked Vale, the idea of him throttling these men was now an appealing one. Not exactly a settling notion, since I’d personally witnessed what he was capable of—how far he’d go to protect me.

  “Dane knew things about these guys,” I said, my belief still strong that he was offering evidence, despite Kyle’s whole this cannot be happening expression. “What an excellent opportunity for him to push that evidence in the right direction, when everyone thinks he’s dead. The supershady would never see it coming. Dane’s totally blindsiding them.”

  “Ari…” Kyle gave me a compelling look. Actually, it was more of blatant pity, but whatever. “If he’d made it out of the lobby, we would have seen him.”

  “Unless he and Amano escaped out the back, toward the courtyards.”

  “And what?” Kyle all but growled, angry again. “You honestly believe he’d allow you to think, all this time, that he was dead? To grieve for him and—”

  “No. Of course not. I can’t explain the mechanics of this. I only know what my gut is telling me. Dane found a way to make his final push with the corrupt members. He’d never want me to suffer in the process, so I have to believe there’s a reasonable explanation. I know it in my heart, Kyle. Everything he’s doing is to protect what’s his—that includes me.”

  Dane wouldn’t leave me to suffer. But at the same time … He’d do anything to keep me safe. If this was his only way, what choice would he have than to disappear, no matter how emotionally destroyed it made me? Because if he actually could pull this off, it’d all boil down to a couple of months out of our lives that were sheer horror—well, in addition to the other period of horror following the kidnapping, when I’d broken up with him.

  The blast at the Lux could have unwittingly provided the perfect chance to do what he needed to do, so all of this could end. Once he’d learned no one had died in the explosion and everyone had been released from the ER except me—and he’d know my dad and Kyle would be there to take care of me—Dane would be free to take this course of action handed to him.

  As I contemplated all of this, finding huge relief in my logic and completely ignoring any probability that I was way the fuck off my rocker, I stared at the leather blotter in front of me.

  Something was missing.

  A grin spread over my lips.

  “Oh, Christ,” Kyle mumbled. “You are so far out there. Seriously, Ari, we need to get back to my aunt’s and have your counselor come for a very long visit.”

  I snickered. “I’m not crazy, Kyle.” Maybe. “I just noticed that Dane’s laptop is gone.”

  “So, it’s probably in his office at the Lux. Or what used to be his office.”

  I shivered at the thought of what the once opulent and pristine 10,000 Lux must look like today. Squeezing my eyes shut for a moment, I fought to compose myself. Then I opened my lids and speared him with a look. “Dane didn’t take his computer to work that day. We had too much to do downstairs. He only had his phone with him.”

  Clearly, Kyle wanted to argue the point, come up with another reason. I didn’t let him.

  “My guess is, there’s a shitload of evidence he’s kept on his hard drive and he came back here for it. A clue that escaped me because I’d refused to step foot in here until now.”

  And I had one more thing to add to the mounting list that tipped the scales of my theory.

  Standing, I snatched the sheet of paper again and said, “Can you take me somewhere else?”

  “The closest insane asylum?”

  “Asshole.” I laughed softly. “You’ll regret treating me like a loon when I prove I’m right.”

  “And Dane comes back?” he challenged.

  “Yes.”

  The notion warmed my heart and brought tears of relief to my eyes. Interestingly, my stomach settled. My breathing was almost normal.

  As we drove off, I thought I caught a flash of metal in the dense woods—perhaps from a car? I frowned. I really wasn’t aware of my surroundings these days. That would have to change so that Dane didn’t have to worry about me.

  Suddenly giddy, I all but vibrated in my seat as we headed into Sedona. But then Kyle shot a broody look my way and I stilled. Though, on the inside, I was almost absolutely convinced my powers of deduction had served me well. I knew precisely where to turn for that remaining bit of certainty.

  I still had Mr. Conaway’s unlisted contact details with me. We mapped out his home address using Kyle’s iPhone. Turned out to be a tough place to find, and I suspected that was on purpose.

  When we finally reached the gated property and were buzzed through, it was all I could do not to knock down his front door in my hyperactive state. His very pert and pretty wife, Eleanor, answered. She informed us in her delicate Georgian accent that Mr. Conaway was always available for a visit from me. Very southern hospitality–like, with the offer of coffee or tea, which we both declined. Though Kyle hedged at the mention of mango iced tea, while I forced myself to contain my excitement.

  Eleanor escorted us to her husband’s office, toward the back of the house. He greeted us in his polite, professional manner, though I could see his concern over my unexpected appearance in his dark-brown eyes.

  “I’m so sorry to barge in like this, without an appointment,” I told him.

  “It’s fine, Ari. Always nice to see you, my dear. You’re welcome here anytime.”

  “Thank you.” I tried to dial down my exhilaration. “You remember Kyle Jenns?” I asked as I indicated my friend.

  “Of course.” They shook. “From the wed
ding and I also saw you at the retreat.”

  “Yes. Dr. Stevens—Macy—is my aunt.”

  “Well, I’m quite happy she’s given Ari so much help.”

  I beamed. “I’m sure you’re not the only one.”

  He eyed me quizzically, then said, “Please, won’t you both have a seat?” We took the chairs in front of his desk. “Now, to what do I owe the pleasure?” The quizzical expression turned skeptical, suspicious.

  Did he think I was here for a divorce so I could marry Kyle?

  I blanched. I’d never be anyone other than Mrs. Dane Bax from here on out, whether he was dead or alive. Though I already knew the answer to that mystery.

  Quickly diffusing any sort of speculation, I said, “I was just curious about some of the account information we reviewed previously. Would you mind showing me an updated status?”

  “Not at all. I work very closely with Dane’s—your—accountant to keep everything as current as possible.”

  His fingertips skated over the keyboard, and then his printer began churning out paperwork. He handed the bundle to me and I scanned the pages that looked familiar, once again not certain what I searched for but hoping it would jump out at me.

  Sure enough, when I reached the last sheet I stared at the two very glaring pieces to the puzzle.

  Lifting my gaze, I asked Mr. Conaway, “Shouldn’t Dane’s life insurance policy have paid out by now? I’m the sole beneficiary, so there shouldn’t be any disputes or complications. No one to contest it.”

  He shuffled some papers on his desk as he said, “Given the amount we’re dealing with, it can take a bit longer than under normal circumstances.” His gaze didn’t quite meet mine.

  “But you did send the claim in … on my behalf? Or wouldn’t I need to sign something? For that matter, I haven’t even seen a death certificate. Wouldn’t the insurance carrier require that?”